Goodbye
by Yoshumitsu23
Summary: Tokio Hotel; One-Shot; "That would be the last memory I had with him. Those two words weighed heavy on my pounding, pulsing piece of betrayal. "Whatever"? The water was finally provoked to flow freely down my cheeks..."


"Why are you such a wreck? I hate you!" There I stood, looking at the man in front of me. His brown eyes glistening. The tears lingered inside of them, refusing to fall. People overuse the word hate - saying they hate a song or a person they've never met - but those people, they obviously have no idea what true hate felt like. If they did, they wouldn't use it in those terms. But I knew it all too well. See, this man in front of me with his stupid piercings and dark make-up, made life almost unbearable. He was selfish and didn't care enough about other people to let things go. I looked at him for the longest time, unable to see why people even bothered with him. So much animosity...yet I refused to take further action. Why? Because I swore I wouldn't.

"Dude, you've been staring at the mirror all day, get over yourself!" I closed my eyes, not moving. He couldn't see the liquid that had yet to fall. What would he think of me? I knew I was selfish and weak - he probably knew it too - but I stilled tried not to let anyone bare witness to the monster within. He shoved me aside to readjust his cap, then he turned to face me. Naturally, I turned away, not wanting him to see. "We're gonna be late." Words weren't coming easy. "I-I know...I'm coming." He was still oblivious to it all - or maybe he just didn't care.

That was my brother, born the same day of the same year. Same brown eyes, same scrawny physique. We were so close not long ago, sharing the same thoughts and the same dreams...but lately, we've been drifting apart. I don't know if he can tell or not but to me, it's obvious. Fighting is almost a constant. If you ask him though, it's all my fault. My stupid, emotional fault. And maybe it is - maybe that's something that I just can't grasp. But why should I try? Why give me one more reason to hate myself? Sure, I've got positive things about me...but they never outweigh the negative.

For anyone that might try to argue that, you clearly don't understand. If you knew half the stuff that goes on in my head, you wouldn't even bother. Not that I'm assuming anyone would try. I mean, what reason would they have? Assuming they might just makes me sound that much more self-absorbed, huh? Well let me tell you something. There used to be a time when I didn't feel so strongly, a time when the last thing on my mind was me.

His voice broke the silence. "Well... hurry." I faked a smile. "Go ahead, I have something I have to do..." He looked at me weird. "Whatever. Later!" I watched him run down the stairs, realizing that would be the last memory I had with him. Those two words weighed heavy on my pounding, pulsing piece of betrayal. _Whatever?_ The water was finally provoked to flow freely down my cheeks.

Forget promises. No one ever cares enough to keep the ones they've made...why should I? Scanning the room for the tools necessary to fulfill my recent quest, I found them on the desk. I grabbed the pen in one hand and held the paper still with the other.

_This is my epiphany: I don't matter and I never did.  
~ Bill_

After the note had been written, I left it there. It was short but it summed it all up nicely; sometimes simplicity is best. After setting my most prized possession - a journal with all my lyrics and various scribbles - next to it, I darted to the bathroom. Lifting the mat, I found what I was looking for exactly where I had left it. I turned the dial, letting water fill the tub. After it was full, I checked to make sure I locked the door - not wanting anyone to come barging into the room to stop me - and slipped in, not even bothering to undress. I stared at the object in my hand. This was such a drastic decision...but what choice did I have? Continue making everyones' life miserable? No way. It stung a little at first - when cold metal met with my skin - but the pain soon subsided as I made the same motion several times, letting the red sticky liquid mix with that clear substance already in the tub. At least the mess would be easy enough to clean up. The longer I sat, the more I could actually feel the life being drained from my body. I closed my eyes and the last thing I heard, as my breathing diminished, was the sound of my brother's voice through the door - he was yelling. _Some things never change, eh Tomi?_


End file.
